See books as signposts for life and guides to character

If you want the measure of a man, look on their bookshelves. Choose your references wisely. As great as they are, as great you will be.

Pep Montserrat for The National

'We have so many books in our library," my friend said one evening, "I might give some to charity. I don't know if I have time to read them all again."
My friend has been adding to her family's library for many years and it has always been important to her what gets added to - or subtracted from - the collection.
There are many ways to read someone's personality, even when meeting them for the first time. The look in their eyes, the clothes they wear, an accent, sometimes even the way they walk. For me, another way is to run my eyes across their bookshelves.
The choice of books in a family's home tells you so much about them. You can tell what they are interested in, given the prominence of certain volumes; or if history, philosophy, languages, poetry and politics are topics for debate in the house.
Long before I was born, my family began to assemble their own collection of books. When my parents married, they brought their own collections together under one roof. Ever since, it has been slowly building. Each of my brothers has a small corner in their room, reflecting their interests. When greater questions need answering, we all go back to the library in the main house.
As a child I stared at the huge Arabic hardcover books, the encyclopedias and maps; the rows of National Geographic magazines with their familiar square yellow covers. Then there were the volumes of tribal histories and genealogies. And endless Arabic poetry books, of course.
My mother always kept a distant eye on what I was reading as a young girl and would recommend certain authors. As rebellious as I was, I followed these suggestions.
"It is just like taking a kid to a supermarket," she explained to me recently. "You try to persuade him to buy healthy ingredients and make him aware that the junk food and artificial colourings are bad for his health. Once he knows this, he can help himself to anything he wants." Mother kept me away from things that my young mind might find confusing. And for that I thank her.
As we grow older and life becomes more complicated we need to learn how to filter what is useful and true, and what is not.
For this, even more than the family bookshelf, a city's libraries can allow us to measure the background, interests and knowledge of its people.
For as long as my grandmother and I can remember, the biggest library in Abu Dhabi was located in the Cultural Foundation. I went there for school projects and my parents for their research, while grandmother would go through the shelves until she found a book that interested her.
When it was established in 1981 it was called the National Library and it opened to the public in 1984. Some of the most precious volumes are from private collections donated by Sheikh Zayed, along with more than 300,000 titles in Arabic and 100,000 titles in foreign languages.
The library also published many books recording the country's history, which we used for school projects. (In those days we used real books rather than Google and there was no alternative to the library.)
These days the National Library boasts a collection that has grown to almost two million books, periodicals and manuscripts, and is now adding digital resources. But many of the old books and documents are stored in a warehouse and have to be ordered online in order read them. I tried to explain to my grandmother that the library she remembers so fondly now exists as a digitalised website.
She was confused: "You mean there isn't a place to walk in to choose books or look on shelves?" So I suggested instead that she might try the library at the Sheikh Zayed Grand Mosque Centre.
Of course, many universities also have walk-in libraries. With prior notice, you can make an appointment to visit the Centre for Documentation and Research, a heaven for anyone interested in historic books about the country and region. Then there is the library and database at the Emirates Centre for Strategic Studies and Research, and at several other similar organisations around the city.
As for my love of good old-fashioned books and libraries, I think I got that from my grandmother. I have no objection to reading on a computer screen or an iPad, but there is nothing better than the experience of walking into a library, taking down an old book, with its yellowing pages, and taking notes with a pencil.
It is second nature for some of us, and when we can't do it, we miss it.
One of the serious books that I read was Al Ghazali's The Revival of the Religious Sciences (Ihya' oulum al deen). I was 15 and found the 1,000-year-old text in classical Arabic hard to follow, but no less interesting.
I still read it now before going to bed, loving how rereading a passage can help you understand something you did not get earlier. Recently, an uncle on my mother's side told me that there was a handwritten copy of the book more than 100 years old in the family home.
To be told something like that helps you to truly appreciate the value of such a book. It becomes something that you and your ancestors have equally read and enjoyed. Just like the generations still to come.
In life, one's influences can be a person, a book, even a city. My theory is that if you want to really know the measure of a man, you must understand where his values come from. It could be the wisdom of an older relative, a teacher, or a public figure whose opinions you respect; someone that you do not just agree with but learn from.
So choose your references wisely. As great as they are, as great you will be. For Emiratis, the two great influences in our lives are our faith - the Quran and the Prophet Mohammed - and the late Sheikh Zayed bin Sultan.
We also value the words of our elders, shaping our minds as children even before we go to school, even though today's generation prefers the click of a mouse to flipping pages.
Going back to my friend who was so set on giving away many of her precious books, I told her: "You already give to charity in so many ways, so leave them for the next generation of your family to enjoy. Even if you can't read them all again, the younger ones will, and their minds will be shaped."
Bushra Alkaff Al Hashemi is a features writer for The National